homestuckfateeditionfandomcom-20200214-history
Kate Batson
Life before the SBurb incident When I was a kid I used to watch Dragnet religiously. It was this old cheesy 50’s show about a detective named Joe Friday. Every episode started with him telling me “This is the city” with some diatribe about how under the nice clean metropolis of LA there was an undercurrent of scum and villainy that could only be handled by the police. Regardless of the case Joe would solve it. Whether it was a nazi trying to bomb a school or a amnesiac wandering the city lost and confused Joe was on it. His whole life was being a cop. Thats all he had and thats all he needed to be. Duck thought it was sad that he couldn't cook, shop, didn't have a wife or kids, didn't go to parties or have any friends outside of the force but I envied that man. Joe was a cop. Nothing more, nothing less. He protected the innocent and served the victims. He didn't care about race, creed, or gender. He cared only if you needed his help. He never swayed from his morals nor took temptation and was willing to die for those he barely knew and more often than the childlike me could understand for those that he hated. He was the ultimate good guy. Sitting in my office on my 19th birthday smoking the last cigarette before I’d try to quit again I thought about Joe Friday and all he stood for wondering where the writers of that fucking show got the nerve to make me think it was that easy. Ive been beaten, bruised, shot, stabbed, poisoned by two different spiked drinks and one craftily placed spider, almost hanged on three different occasions and never once did it end like the show. With a fucking easy confession and a satisfying conclusion. Joe never had murder cases go cold and stay that way, never had rapists walk because of a fucked up system, he didn't have to watch those around him slowly get dragged into crime because that was the only way to go. No, for Joe Friday it was simple: bad guys go to jail and the ones in jail where bad; always. The smoke floats over my desk as I look at the cards and gifts from lovers, grateful clients, and not so grateful clients not giving a shit about any of them. They came every year and two dollar hallmark cards dont impress me just as being able to read my birthday on your computer was equally as inconsequential. The only one I ever bothered to open was from my kid sister Duck. As kids I’d play detective and help her find her toys, stolen money, the punk kids that beat her up, and any other mysteries and crimes that needed the swift hand of the law. In those days Joe Friday would have envied my case turnover rate. Every single one was solved quick, clean, and by the book. I could act out my narcissistic fantasy of being the edgy hero there to swoop in and save my damsel sister and it was always easy and rewarding to do so. Every case went that way. Until she and our brother Mute where kidnapped. Until I realized that toys and pocket change don't mean shit in the real world. Joe Friday may have had one thing right: the world was dark and vile and only a cop could face it. I can tell you that when I first stepped foot on the alien world of the Trolls I figured out fast that I knew jack shit about being a cop. ''' '''It all started on a cold moonlit morning when they were nowhere to be found... Entry get there (with hopefully a few people alive) Land What? Relationships who are going to/have had their butt touched OOC Contact JWHassman@gmail.com is the best way to get ahold of me. Allow for 48 hours for me to respond before resending the email (sometimes I can miss mail so don't be afraid to send it again again if needed).